Harry Potter and the Black Hearted Auror: Bonus 01
by Darth Cious
Summary: Harry's conversation with Tonks from her point of view, as well as some other thoughts of hers. You don't need to read this to fully enjoy the main story, but one of my readers requested it, and I liked the idea.


**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of the wonderful Mrs. J.K. Rowling, and she has my eternal thanks, both for all the joy she has provided me and the permission she's given her fans to play with her toys.

**Harry Potter and the Dark Hearted Auror**

**Bonus Scene 01 - The Two Harrys**

**Preface**: You don't need to read this to keep up with the main story, it's just a little sidebar showing Harry's conversation with Tonks from her perspective as well as some other stuff in her mind. One of my readers said that they wished they could have gotten a better idea of what was going on in her mind during this conversation, but I always write from a single perspective, and except for maybe a chapter or two, the entire story is going to be seen from Harry's eyes. However, I liked the idea so much that I _had_ to write it.

**Warning:** Heavy fluff and angst ahead(even more than from Harry's perspective). Also, I'm still learning how to write women properly, so this may not be as good as some of my other stuff. Still, if you're interested, please read it by all means and tell me what you thought. I hope you enjoy.

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Tonks - she never thought of herself by that _awful_ name her mother had hung on her in the midst of a thick haze of painkiller potions - stepped into one of the Ministry fireplaces and, tossing her handful of floo powder, declared "Dora's Diggs!" A dizzying moment later she stumbled out of the fireplace in the small cottage she leased in Islington and managed to steer herself enough to land on the thick throw rug she kept in front of the fire for just that purpose. Sprawling out, she looked up at the plaster ceiling and blew out a sigh composed of equal parts exhaustion and worry.

After she'd got Harry safely home and returned to the office she shared with Mad Eye, the Minister had summoned her, wanting a complete report. While she _had_ edited events a bit (mostly concerning the sound snogging she'd given the Boy Who Lived), she'd still given him the basic overview of the little tussle with the muggles. To say the Minister had been displeased would be an understatement. Luckily enough for her, his anger hadn't been for the Auror beating up on an under aged muggle, but for the treatment Harry received from his family, for once Tonks had mentioned the way the giant Dursley boy had obviously come looking for trouble, Scrimgeour had wanted a more detailed picture of what Harry's home life was like.

Unfortunately, Tonks knew all too well about it. Being a member of the Order of the Phoenix entailed knowing about Death Eater activities, knowing the history and tactics of He Who Must Not Be Named, and knowing about Harry Potter. While the general public of wizarding Britain wasn't informed about the abuse; verbal, physical, and emotional, that Harry had been subject to since he was a toddler, Molly Weasley made sure every Order member knew it thoroughly, whether they liked it or not.

Tonks had been extremely uncomfortable giving third-hand accounts of starvation, deprivation, confinement and constant disparagement to her boss. Not only because she didn't like to think of such things happening to anyone, especially a nice boy like Harry, who also happened to be their only hope of stopping the insane Dark Wizard who was hell-bent on "purifying" the world of people just like herself... But also because of the look Scrimgeour had given her at the end of her summation. Aurors were good at non-verbal communication, and Tonks knew that at that moment they'd shared the same thought, one that had occurred to her every time she'd had occasion to think about Harry's life away from Hogwarts.

Auror training included many things beyond just magical combat and investigative techniques, and one of the things she'd been taught in her last year was a three-day lesson on dealing with the children of Dark Wizards, included in which had been the thought that had been hammering at both her and the Minister's mind: abused children, even when convinced, or forced by circumstances, to reveal what had happened to them never told the whole story. They'd give you as much as they had to, and try to keep the rest private, usually for no better reason than that they didn't want you feeling sorry for them, or worse, that they'd fear you thought they were just whinging and exaggerating. Once in a great while you came across the sort of little snot who actually _did_ want to make moderately sub-standard parents seem like monsters, but Harry wasn't the type.

After her conversation with the Minister Tonks had been made to fill out a few report forms, read a stack of parchment concerning suspected Death Eater activities that week, and have a quick, guarded talk with Moody about what had happened, in which she revealed far less than she had to the Minister. The whole time, she'd been remembering those few moments where Harry had opened up his heart to her, and wondering how much of the scarring on his psyche was due to the Dark Lord and his minions, and how much could be blamed on the relatives Albus Dumbledore insisted Harry was safest with. The worries, the questions, and bits and pieces of memories were still flicking in and out of her head every now and then.

Fortunately, Auror training included a way to deal with this problem. She'd always had a good memory, and the exercises she'd been put through had honed it to near perfection. A good Auror, she'd been taught, had no need of a pensieve, because usually when you needed one you didn't have time to find one. When an incident kept bothering you, her instructors had taught her, the best way to put it to rest, or at least moderate your distress, was to review, analyze, and conclude. At least that way you knew what, exactly, was bothering you, and hopefully you came up with a way to fix it. Tonks took two deep breaths, cleared her mind, and closed her eyes.

Where had the worry for him started? Ah, yes...

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

She couldn't help but wink at Harry as she assured him that, whether he liked it or not, he was going to go on developing fancies for girls. Really, did he think she'd never heard the declaration "I'm done with women!" or "men!" before? He was just reaching the worst stage of adolescence, where puppy love ended and real love started to become a possibility. Worse, fueled by the confusion of trying to find one's place coupled with the last explosion of hormones, that real love could easily give way to something closer to obsession, the sort of thing that drove you mad and made you make idiot decisions, even worse than mature love could.

"No, Tonks. It's the way things _have_ to be. I can't afford that sort of thing, not now." A second ago he'd been light-hearted, ribbing at her and playing the way that reminded her achingly of her own Hogwarts days, and the friends she'd been so close with then, most of whom she'd lost touch with since. Now, a shadow passed over his bright green eyes and darkened them in a way that worried her.

"What," She kept her tone light, hoping they could move past whatever thought had soured him, "Going to be too busy being a mover and a shaker in the political world?" That she couldn't help. The fact was that however much she liked the boy, she still had a job to do, and if she could prod him into letting something slip, it'd earn her good marks in Dumbledore's book. Also, it would still be preferable having Harry hacked off at her than letting him sink into the kind of bleak depression endemic of being a teenager.

"No, Tonks." The shadow in his eyes only grew thicker, "Think about it this way. The Prophet's decided I'm a hero again, which means every little detail of my life is fascinating, important, and the right of the public to know. If I start dating, the first thing they're going to do is put pictures of her and I right on the front page with something like 'The Boy Who Loved?' above them in big flashing letters."

"So what?" She wondered. _Any decent girl would deal with it if she cared about you, Harry. Hell, some might even like it a bit. You're fine just as long as you don't pick the sort who __**wants**__ it._ "I'm sure you can find a girl who can deal with the publicity and not let it go to her head."

A flash of fire in that shadow, and his voice came out a snarl that caused her wand hand to twitch slightly. _This is the Boy Who Lived_, she reminded herself. _He's famous for his temper, but he doesn't hurt people without good reason._ "That's not the point! Voldemort's out there, and so is your insane aunt, not to mention however many Death Eaters are left and have been newly recruited. Do you really think that _none_ of them read the paper?"

"Oh." She responded brilliantly. "I guess I didn't make that connection." She hadn't, either. She'd always figured being Harry Potter's girlfriend would be nothing but a dream come true for the average witch. He was brave, handsome, at least moderately wealthy, if rumors were to be believed, and you'd get into all the best clubs and restaurants without a reservation. Even if there _were_ the right sort of girl for Harry Potter out there, and even if she _was_ willing to deal with the added danger, there was no way he'd allow it as well.

"Yeah." The fire had faded, and now the depression she'd worried about was obviously sinking its claws into him, sinking them deep. It looked quite at home, too. How long had this been going on? Since Sirius died? The year before that when everyone thought he was a liar and a murderer? "If I ever _did_ manage to find the right girl, the first thing I'd do is tell her to run." _Getting better at Legilimency_, she quipped to herself. "Run far, far away from Harry Potter and never look back. Everyone I love gets killed." Tonks felt a physically painful stab of sympathy. People, including herself, she had to admit, threw the Boy Who Lived thing around pretty lightly. Nobody ever seemed to realize that he was also the Boy Who Lived Through His Parents' Murder. That was definitely the sort of thing that could give a kid with a good heart a nasty complex, especially when he had to be reminded of it as often as Harry must be. And now losing Sirius, the adult who'd so badly wanted to take their place, but hadn't been allowed, had only compounded the problem. No wonder the poor kid thought he was a curse!

"Honestly I'm scared to death for Ron and Hermione, but especially for Hermione. I'm fairly sure Dumbledore's been putting protections up around the Burrow, and the most of the Weasleys can Apparate... But what happens if five Death Eaters show up at the Granger house one night? Bad enough Hermione's a muggleborn, but she's also a path to me. Voldemort would _love_ to get his hands on her, she'd make great bait. Failing that, I'm sure he'd consider just being able to kill her a coup."

She almost sighed in relief. Here at least was something she could do to console him. Instinctively she reached out and began to rub his neck, the same way her father did for her when she was particularly upset. Ever since she'd been a little girl, it had always soothed her. "It's alright Harry. You don't think Dumbledore's thought of that too?" She winced internally. She was going to get in trouble for this, but if it took some of the pain out of this sweet boy's eyes it would be worth it. "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but the old crowd is keeping a very close eye on the Grangers. You've been through more than enough, we're not going to let that demented bastard take anyone else away from you." _And that, Harry_, she finished silently, _is a promise._ It would be hard to keep, the Death Eaters were terrorists, and Harry was their prime target, but she was going to do her damnedest to see he wasn't made to suffer this kind of pain again. _Easy_, she told herself, with an internal laugh. _ You're sounding like a Gryffindor._

"What about Ginny, then?" She asked, trying to lead him away from the topic of his losses and back onto that of pretty girls.

"Huh?" She resisted the urge to smack him. Why was it that boys could never keep up with the conversation?

"Ginny Weasley. The girl's mad for you, and her family are known sympathizers. She's a target whether she's your girlfriend or you never look at her." When he snorted at her efforts, she almost stuck her tongue out at him. But she was serious in a way here, too. A right-minded, sweet Gryffindor girl like Ginny Weasley would do Harry Potter's heart a world of good.

"She's got a boyfriend, Tonks." That was easily remedied.

"She'd toss him aside in a second if you asked her to." Most men would have been happy to hear such an assurance. Even if they didn't want the female in question, it was a nice stroke to the ego... Then again, Harry didn't have a tenth of the ego people who didn't know better assumed he did.

"You're probably right... And that's a symptom of the disease." Tonks laughed that off, determined not to let him start getting serious on her again.

"What, you think love is a disease now?"

"No, but I don't think Ginny's in love with me, either. She's the poster child for Potteritis. She was crushing on me even before we ever met, and then the first time we ever did more than say a few words to one another was the time I saved her life and slew the basilisk right in front of her, with the Sword of Gryffindor no less." Tonks remembered when she'd first heard that tale. She'd had fantasies along that line for months afterward, it was just _so_ bloody romantic. But at the same time, she could still see his point.

"I think that about permanently sealed it. Ginny knows me about as well as anyone who isn't Ron or Hermione, but she's still very much in love with Harry Potter, and I don't think anything could ever really change that." Now she was just confused. What the hell was the boy's problem? Other than being fifteen and emotionally scarred and marked for death and... Well, alright. But still!

"So? She's in love with Harry Potter. Why's that so bad? You're him, after all." Harry's eyes flashed, his rage was a color she knew all too well. It figured that when the Boy Who Lived got angry, his eyes would be the same shade as the curse that had given him that moniker. Her hand twitched again, but she held it firmly at her side and braced herself for one of those fits of temper that were nearly legendary among the Order and the staff of Hogwarts.

She was both impressed, and oddly fascinated by watching the way he visibly took control of himself and shoved the anger down. The way he breathed then showed he'd had at least some training with Occlumency, though not enough, she warranted. It seemed like she wasn't about to be subjected to being screamed at. She felt oddly touched, and wondered whether it was because Harry considered her a friend, or if he was making this effort all the time now. That lead to another thought, she hoped it wasn't _all_ the time. If the Chosen One started repressing his emotions he would become like a time-delayed curse that you couldn't be sure just _when_ it was going to trip and immolate half an acre in every direction. In a normal wizard that was bad enough, in a wizard of Harry's power and responsibility, it would be a disaster of epic proportions.

"No, I'm not. I'm just Harry." He told her calmly and a bit sadly. "I love flying, I like magic for its own sake, not for power or to make things easier. I like playing Wizard's Chess, and every time I manage to beat Ron I love teasing him about it. I like Defence and Transfiguration, I'm okay at Charms, I'd be complete pants at Herbology without help from Neville Longbottom, and I absolutely despise Potions, but I'll have to keep taking it next year if I ever want to reach the one goal I've made for myself," What was that, she wondered. What did a person destined to save the world aspire to? "-on my own. I buy chocolate frogs but I don't really like them that much, I just love collecting the cards and reading all the facts about the great witches and wizards..."

She had to repress a laugh at that, and hoped one day she'd have the chance to tell him it was something they had in common. Her own collection, which she'd started at the age of seven, had been carefully tucked away in a drawer at her flat. She wasn't going to interrupt now though, it was obvious he was going somewhere with all this. And if it helped him, let him talk as much as he wanted. "I'm a bit smarter than I usually let on, especially if I try to stop and think rather than just do whatever comes into my head. I've got a hell of a nasty temper, but I'm working hard on it now... Sometimes I'm brave, sometimes I'm scared. I won't say I'm ordinary, but I'm not really extraordinary either." She examined his face closely at that, wondering if he actually believed it. It seemed that he did, and she could have cried. _Oh Harry..._ _What have those muggles and the idiots at your school done to you that you could actually believe that? I wish I could have known some boys half as sweet and loyal as you are when I was your age._

"Harry Potter though..." He dropped the crate he was carrying, making her realize that at some point they'd stopped walking. And also making her realize that he likely had no idea of just how valuable a Deceit Disruptor was in this day and age. Then he managed to mess his hair up even worse than it normally was, giving her a strong momentary impulse to sit him down and comb it. Her own tastes tended toward spikes and such of course, but _styled_ nonetheless. Harry managed to look like he'd just rolled out of bed after a night of wild sex._ Or nightmares..._ She thought, and decided that fit better. You didn't picture Harry having wild sex... _Well_, she supposed, _maybe you do, but only when you're picturing yourself as the other participant._ With an internal start, she realized that now she was trying to keep _herself_ cheerful. It wasn't working very well though. This sensitive, intelligent, wounded boy was making her heart ache.

"Harry Potter is this great hero that everyone looks up to. Harry Potter saves people. He kills monsters anyone else would shite themselves just looking at. He goes nose to nose with Dark Wizards and never backs down a step. He always stands up for what he believes in, even if he has to stand there alone. He's the champion of the innocent and the defenseless. He's completely selfless, and always tries to help those who need him..."

"But that's you, Harry!" She protested, without even thinking about it. "You do all those things!" How many lives had he saved now? And it seemed like he didn't even want the credit that went along with it. Like he didn't feel he deserved the way people loved him for all he'd done.

"I do it because I have to!" Harry jerked away from her hand and she resisted the immediate urge to go after him, she knew that tone well. Right now he was like a wounded animal, and he'd probably bite her finger off if she tried to comfort him. "Sometimes things need to be done. Dangerous things. Awful things. Sometimes people need hope, or they need saving. Sometimes people need a hero. And because nobody else will do it, or nobody else _can_ do it. I have to." Tonks swallowed, feeling the start of a lump in her throat. No wonder Harry was depressed. He was carrying more weight on his shoulders than everyone in the Ministry combined, and he'd never asked for it.

"I have to be Harry Potter, whether I like it or not, because there's no other real choice but letting the Dark win." _And that doesn't count as a choice at all for you, does it Harry? You've never even __considered__ giving up, have you?_ "So I do it. I do my best, and most of the time I still manage to bollocks it up somehow, and it's always the people I care about who pay the price." She desperately wanted to tell him that _wasn't_ his fault, but she knew the words would slide right off him. This was a catharsis for him, and she wasn't going to interrupt him now, not with the chance that getting all this off his chest would help in even the slightest. "And even though people get hurt, or people die, I manage to get lucky enough to keep it from being a little bit worse, and for that, everyone loves Harry Potter," _Because no one else could do better, Harry. Don't you realize that? No one could have done the things you've done halfway as well. You've saved thousands of lives and you probably don't even realize it, because the cost to you has been so high that you can't really think about it in any way approaching rationally. It just hurts too bad, doesn't it? _

"-when they're not too busy hating him." She made a note to herself to personally look up Rita Skeeter and Cornelius Fudge and kick the shite out of them both. Not with magic, either. The feeling of breaking Skeeter's fingers and Fudge's jaw with her own hands would be far too pleasant to pass up. "And the more I do it, the more people expect it, the more people come to believe in Harry Potter, the more people come to _rely_ on him." _And that's the truth. Even I rely on you. I'll do my best to hold you up and watch your back while you're at it, but I don't think I could ever trust anyone else to save the world, Harry._

"All I've wanted, since as early as I can remember, was to be a normal person. To have parents, to have a family, to have friends. To go to school and have nobody but the people who love me care about what I do. To be ignored most of the time. To be just another student at Hogwarts, just another young wizard." _You deserve it, too. You deserve the perfect family who will tell you every day how much they love you and how special you are, because you could never be normal. You're so much better than that. _The harsh, broken laugh he let out tore at her heart. No one as young as he was should sound that old. "But I don't have that option. Because nobody else can be Harry Potter but me. So I will be Harry Potter, whenever I have to, no matter what the cost..." He was leaning against the wall, and silently, unable to stop herself, she moved closer, taking care not to trip. The clumsiness had been her curse since she'd started to grow, she wasn't going to let it foul this up. "But I could never be with someone who wanted Harry Potter all the time. I don't have that much in me."

_And no one has the right to ask that much of you, you're right._ _No one has the right to ask anything of you, not with everything you've done already. _She looked at his back, listened to the forced way he was measuring his breathing, saw the tremors running through his body that he probably wasn't even aware of. _You've got people who love you for who you are, Harry, but you need more. And you need the real thing, friendships, even the deep friendships you have, could never be enough for someone with a heart like yours._ Her self control failed, she couldn't just stand here and watch him suffer. She had to do _something_, whether it got her head bitten off or not.

She grabbed him firmly by the shoulders and turned him, she wasn't going to let him jerk away this time. He needed this right now. However, she almost let him go as she felt him tense, saw him squeeze his eyes shut and set his shoulders. _Dear Merlin... Does he think I'm about to yell at him?_ It was obvious he thought exactly that. She could have cried right then, but if she started, he would too, and then they'd both just be a soppy mess out in the middle of the sidewalk. Instead, she pulled him against her and hugged him with all she had. She tried to put how grateful she was to him, how much sympathy she felt for what he'd suffered, and how sorry she was for never having understood what his life was really like, into that hug.

She was worried he was going to try to pull away again, and that that would be exactly the time some muggle wandered by and wanted to know why she was assaulting the poor boy. Instead he just stood there, warm and vulnerable in her arms. Finally, hesitantly, he started to return the embrace, burying his face against her shoulder. She squeezed him, wanting nothing so much in that moment as to Apparate away with him, take him somewhere far, far from here, where there were no Dark Lords, no dead loved ones, no cruel muggle relatives. She wanted to make him safe, make him happy, help him heal some of those wounds on his soul before he bled to death. Let the world save itself, it had already asked far too much of Harry Potter, if it asked much more, it was going to eat him alive.

She couldn't, though. She was too responsible for that. More, she knew that _he_ was too responsible for that. She could take him to the other side of the planet, to some isolated little tropical island, offer to fill his days up with sex, sun, and sweets, everything a boy his age was supposed to want... And he'd only ask her to bring him back. Because whether he wanted to admit it or not, Harry was a hero.

"Oi, Big D! Isn't that your cousin? The one who goes to the school for deviants?"

"Yeah, that's the freak all right." At that moment, Tonks was the closest she had ever come in her life to using the Killing Curse. No one had a right to talk about Harry like that. And if half of what Molly Weasley said was true, he endured this sort of thing, and far worse, from the bastard muggles constantly. No wonder he thought so little of himself, if this was what he had heard everyday since before he'd learned to walk. No, _Avada Kedavra_ was too good for them, she wanted to take her time, make them suffer the way they'd made Harry suffer. And if she tried? Harry would save them, stupid, silly, wonderful boy that he was. They had no idea on what they had given up when they'd decided not to open their hearts to Harry Potter.

"So if that's the freak, then who's the fox?" Tonks suddenly smiled. It was not a terribly pleasant expression, full of malice and sadistic amusement. She'd just had a much better idea on how to exact a little payback on Harry's cousin, one he'd be happy to sit back and watch, maybe even jump in on. And if it cheered Harry up, got him to smile that handsome, innocent smile of his again, it would be worth the embarrassment involved in playing the girly-girl. She began altering her voice, she didn't need to actually change her vocal cords for this one, it was all her own, but she didn't use it often, so it took a bit of effort.

She was a little shocked as she felt Harry start to pull away from her. Did he not want to be seen with her? _No, of course not you git._ She could have smacked herself this time. _He probably thinks you don't want to be seen with him. And he's still about to turn around and start defending you anyway._ Well, that was sweet of course, but she'd have to show Mr. Harry Potter that Dora Tonks was quite capable of taking care of herself, thank you.

As she focused on turning her nasty, amused smile into a more pleasant one, she pulled Harry back against her, and turned to face the idiot muggles. This was going to be _fun!_

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tonks opened her eyes and sat up. She carefully kept her mind blanked as she pushed herself to her feet. Little thoughts kept pushing at her from the borders of her mind as she went to the cupboard against the wall, but she held them off. She pulled a bottle of Ogden's out of the cupboard, poured herself a tumbler, and moved over to one of the pair of pink and green patterned, overstuffed chairs in front of the fireplace. Only once she was comfortably seated and had taken a swig of the powerful liquor did she finally let the thoughts start to come.

Harry Potter was severely lacking in self-confidence.

Harry Potter was depressed as hell about the loss of his Godfather and was trying to hide it from everyone, including himself.

Harry Potter was convinced he had to shut himself off from personal connection for fear that he would bring only misery and death to those he cared for.

Harry Potter, despite how he'd acted with the Minister (and she _knew_ it had been an act now), didn't think he deserved respect or love.

And finally, Harry Potter was desperately afraid he was going to fail at the task destiny had set him. He was turning that fear into something useful, the fuel he needed to accomplish what needed doing, but confidence would have done better, and not left their savior skating on the edge of a breakdown.

She knew she was supposed to tell someone about this. The Minister should know the Chosen One wasn't entirely stable. Dumbledore should know one of his students, as well as his best weapon against Voldemort, was suffering. _Doesn't he already?_ A nasty little voice in the back of her head asked.

She wasn't going to tell either one of them. It would be a betrayal of Harry's trust. Worse, it would give either man another handle to move Harry around with, and she thought the _last_ thing Harry needed right now was either of the two men having more power to push Harry toward, in his words, "being Harry Potter." Still, someone had to do something to help him. She knew the perfect person, and the perfect solution.

Tonks was going to get Harry Potter a girlfriend. She grinned, took another swig of firewhiskey, and glanced up at the clock over the mantelpiece. She'd only been home from work for two hours, but she had the _other_ job to report to soon. That, however, promised to be much more enjoyable.

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**Author's Notes:** I warned you! Don't say I didn't! If you've read this far, I hope you've enjoyed. Two quick things before you review(and I hope, dear reader, that you will).

First, as "adults" are prone to do, Tonks is overestimating just how much angst Harry is feeling. So don't be worried about having me drown you in a sea of darkness and depression, it _will_ be there, as this is, in part, a love story and love always has its darker half, not to mention our character is a teenage boy... But I made a promise to you at the start that I'm not going to write a fic I wouldn't want to read, and I don't like angst-fics.

Second, just in case you didn't pick it up from the context(such as the way she's still thinking of him as "boy" and "kid"), Tonks is feeling closer and more affectionate toward Harry, but is still a long country mile from anything resembling actual attraction. I'm keeping to my ANs, don't get nervous on me, folks.

Oh, and this is not really related to the story itself, but it amused the hell out of me:

I decided to put Tonks' apartment in Islington because I don't know London that well, but I do know Islington from H2G2(Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for the uninitiated), and from what I'd seen in "Notes on a Scandal" the feel of the place was perfect to me. Just to familiarize myself a bit in case I ever needed it though, and make sure I hadn't made an awful mistake in choosing it, I looked Islington up on Wikipedia. It turns out Islington is also the setting of the movie "About a Boy"(which I've never seen, I **despise** Hugh Grant), which happens to be the first movie that Natalia Tena ever appeared in. For those who don't know, Natalia Tena plays Tonks in the movies.


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